


Wedding Night

by KroganVanguard



Category: Castle
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, The Time Of Our Lives, post ep, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KroganVanguard/pseuds/KroganVanguard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The start of their first night as husband and wife. Pure fluffy smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Night

It’s not that late when they leave. 

Jim makes some murmurs about having to work early tomorrow after dinner is served (the catering that Martha organised on the drive up was first-class), and having drunk apple juice all night he’s more than happy to give the slightly tipsier Alexis and Martha a ride back to the city. His mother looks over at them at the head of the table, his hand curled around his wife’s waist, hers resting on his thigh, and she of course doesn’t miss a beat, announcing to Alexis they’d better leave because she has an audition to practice for. Even his daughter smirks at them on the way out, one last round of congratulations at the door before Jim’s Mercedes slinks off into the night. 

He has her pressed up against the hallway before the door has even closed, hungrily claiming her mouth as his fingers skirt the lace of her top, sliding underneath to find bare, silken skin, so warm and beautiful to the touch. She kisses back just as hard, her hands finding the back of his head, sliding into his hair. He can feel the slightly cool metal of her ring against his scalp, and it is one of the most beautiful feelings he can imagine, the symbol of their commitment together. 

He’s not sure how long they’re there, just making out at the doorway like a pair of teenagers. He does let his hands roam her body, skimming over her skin, teasing her by palming her breasts roughly through her clothes, before coming back to squeeze her ass, not gently. She returns the favour as the need to take a breath overcomes them both.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom, my dear husband?”

She presses gentle kisses to his jawline as she speaks, interspersing them with little nips of her teeth. A thrill runs through him at those words, as they revel in the fact of having taken that next step, having made their commitment to each other official, of having made it publicly. 

“Of course, Mrs. Castle.”

He feels her shiver at his reply, and he’s not able to keep the husky growl out of his voice, equal parts love and lust, ready to spend their wedding night together. To be fair, he’s been ready for hours, and he’s pretty sure she has too. He goes back in to kiss her, but this time she evades him gently, moving out of his embrace and instead tugging him towards the stairs. He follows willingly, the bow on the small of her back an unsubtle reminder of the present he’s about to get. The way they race up the stairs, two at a time, reminds him of their first time here, when a murder investigation kept popping up at the most inconvenient times, till at last they could shoo the local sheriff out of their home and get to the best part of the weekend. 

And then suddenly they’re at the door to the master bedroom, and all other thought flees his mind. She’s about to cross the door, but he curls his fingers around her slender wrist, tugging her back. 

“Tsk, tsk my dear wife. There’s tradition to be observed, and everything.”

At first her look back at him is arch, one eyebrow shaping upwards in that familiar slant, but as soon as he slides one arm under her knees and the other under her back and brushing against the bow, her features melt into that soft smile that’s reserved only for him. The one that makes his heart skip a beat, the butterflies flutter in his stomach. The one he’s never going to get tired of receiving, not even years from now. As he lifts her into the air, she slings one arm around his neck, the other toying with the buttons of the shirt on his chest, the jacket long removed at dinner. Her eyes sparkle bright and hazel with love and promise. 

“It almost feels surreal, Castle.”

She whispers into his chest as he steps across the threshold, the master bedroom lit only by the lamp that had been left on when they’d gotten dressed. He knows what she means, how much this moment means, how much all the moments today mean. 

They’ve come so close to losing each other so many times over the years, and today he got an insight into how grim their lives would’ve been if they’d never crossed paths at all. And yet…

“You’re telling me? But we beat the odds. We made it.”

He laid her down gently on the bed, almost reverential as he kissed her gently on the lips before working his way down her glorious body. He suckled on the side of her neck, one of her weak-spots, leaving a dark and red mark she’d have to cover with a scarf or turtleneck (unless she didn’t, he’d be fine with that evidence of their wedding night being perfectly visible to everybody), distracting her by sliding the lacy number she wore up and over her arms. Underneath it was a beige slip over a lacy bra, and beyond that nothing but the beauty of her skin. He presses a kiss to the scar in the valley of her cleavage, as he always does in memorial and in celebration, but then leaves the slip alone to move down her body. 

She’s kicked her heels off already, carelessly flinging them aside at the end of the bed, so she wriggles her way up the bed to give him more room, sitting up with half-lidded eyes to watch him work. Instead he slides his hands under her waist to the curve of her rear, and with quick twist of wrist and shoulders, flips her over onto her stomach with pure strength. She hisses with surprise but also more than hint of need at his show of potency, but he has eyes only for that bow on the small off her back, one that has been teasing him all day on top of her billowy pants. 

He tugs at it with one hand while the other works the small of her back, fingertips trailing over skin, skimming her spin under her top. 

“Oh God, Castle.”

That’s the first sign she wants him to hurry up, that she’s starting to feel affected by the mood, the tension, the need filling the air. Good. Not that he has any intention of listening yet, but good. Instead he pulls away the bow entirely, the material pooling in his hand before he dispatches it over the side of the bed. Next he slides his hand to the buckle of her pants, undoing the button there with a quick twist of his fingers, his hand pressed in between the heat of her and the mattress. 

“Can I just say, despite the lack of garter, how much I appreciate how easy you are to undress tonight?”

She looks back at him over her shoulders, eyes glinting. 

“I’ll make it up to you with the garter, Castle. Maybe on our honeymoon, if I can convince Gates to give me any leave.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that…”

His words trail off as her removes the pants and is left facing her curves of her ass, and he can’t help stoop down and press his lips against the soft flesh and then bite gently just under where her underwear stops. She whimpers.

She’s wearing the lacy white boyshorts (lace is clearly a theme tonight, one he loves) that match her already-removed top, and he presses two fingers in between her legs, against the seam, feeling her dampness stealing onto them. He can smell it too, and she’s not the only one- his pants feel tight around his crotch, his shaft hard against the black material. It’s intoxicating, arousing, the scent of it mixed in the buttery vanilla and cherry of her bodywash and shampoo, the everyday mixture he’s come to associate with his fia- his wife. 

He wants more. He needs more. Now. 

Hooking fingers into the sides of the panties, he peels them off over her smoothly shaved legs, letting his fingers caress the skin of her calves, run over her ankles as he alternates kisses between the back of her thighs and knees. Ones he can’t wait to have wrapped around him. She holds her legs together to help him get the boyshorts off and then they disappear into another corner off the room, but when he comes back to the vee of her legs, it’s her turn to take charge. Instead of letting him delve into her with his tongue, she tugs him upwards by the collar of his shirt. He makes a moue of disappointment, pursing his lips, but even though she smiles, she doesn’t let up till he’s lying alongside her. She lets him get rid of the slip, unhook her bra with practised fingers (it lands on the windowsill, he thinks), but before he can get to prize he’s uncovered, put his mouth over those dusky pink peaks, she stops him, pushing him back flat and looming over him like a seductive tigress.

“You have entire too many clothes on. Why don’t you let your wife help you with that?”

She bites her lip in that familiar manner, batting her eyes at him, and he is as always helps her to her charms, under the sway of her power and especially of her words. She pushes him back onto the bed, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt after she’d gotten started earlier, till his chest is naked under her lean, strong digits and she’s flinging his shirt away as quickly as he flung her clothes. Belt next, and pants swiftly and then the tented silk boxers before her tongue and lips are on him, her teasing swipe along the underside of his shaft drawing nothing more than guttural groan. 

She’s so wickedly talented at this, knows how to play his body like an instrument and she’s the maestro, her cheeks hollowing as she works the head while looking up at him with those beautiful green eyes, enjoying her power of him as his hips buck involuntarily upwards towards her mouth, all heat and softness and succulence. Her fingers work him in concert, and the heat pools at the pit of his stomach, the tension building throughout his nervous system. 

Her turn.

In bed it’s all power and play between them, ceding power and taking it, but what they’ve always been good at is being on the same wavelength, and it’s time to switch again. When his broad palm curls along the back of her neck, tugs her up in turn, she just looks up at him quizzically. 

“Castle?”

“Your turn.”

This time her smile is anticipatory as they switch positions again, till she lying back against the pillows and headboard, her legs splayed and fingers tousled in his hair. She’s bare shaven of course, her arousal heady and glistening as he slides the flat of his tongue along her outer lips and over her mons, taking care to tease the stiff little bud at the top but not suck at it yet. Instead he teases and tempts, alternately delving inside her to taste her tangy-salty juices or kissing the inside of her thighs or flicking his tongue over her clit, till he can feel the subtle vibrations of her body start to speed up, till her thighs begin to clamp around his ears, till her fingers tighten in his hair to the point of slight pain.  
Just as well she knows his body, he knows her. Knows the keening gasps for what they are, for the way she plays with her nipples with one hand for what that is, can sense her teetering on the edge…

“Castle, please!”

Half-begging, half-commanding, her words are better than the world’s fine symphony in his ear. His favourite tone to his wife’s voice. She’s so wet now that her juices cover his lips, trailing down to his chin, smeared across his face and her inner thighs.

“Castle, I neeeeeeeeeeeeeed…”

He makes her beg no more. His lips close around the bundle of her clit, sucking hard, while two fingers slide inside her. Her velvet heat flutters hard against them as he curls the tips upwards and searches for the right, sensitive spot inside her. He knows he’s found it when her entire body arcs upwards, her lips screaming out his name as the climax rolls through her as she clamps around his fingers, her juices flowing hard. He teases her into multiple climaxes, sucking more lightly now, easing her down off her high gently. From the way her pupils are wild and dilated, her nostrils flared, he knows that was just the start of the night. 

After a moment, she pushes his head away from her sensitive centre, and he makes his way back up her body, revelling in the flush of pink that has come over it, in the way she’s arching herself upwards to press up against him, in the way the hot steel bar of his shaft slides against her smooth skin. She kisses him eagerly when he’s within reach, tasting herself off him, pressing her lips to his cheek, nibbling on his ear while she palms his shaft, her fingers encircling his girth, squeezing ever so lightly. The flush on her cheek, the ever-so-slight sheen of sweat on her brow, that’s better than the best aphrodisiac, sending another surge of electric need sizzling through him. 

“I need you inside me…”

He feels the cool metal of her ring against the heat of his skin, and that burns straight to his core. He is hers and she is his and they are now paired for the time of their lives. 

“…my husband.”

With that he’s on the edge himself, and she knows, grins widely as she guides him to her entrance with her hands as he positions himself over, hands bracing themselves on either side of her. She’s so wet, so hot, so ready for him that he slides inside her with no trouble. She’s so tight around him, he can feel every nerve, every throb of blood along his length pulsing through her. She improves the angle for herself, arching upwards, locking her legs around the back of his thighs, her hands digging into the flesh of his back and shoulders as he drives himself deep inside her. They lock eyes but no words need to be exchanged, not now, not like this. Not when they’re joined together in deepest union, not when every movement, every thrust draws a rasping shudder for him and a moan and gasp from her in harmony. They won’t last long, but that’s alright, that’s what this time is for, and he can feel himself rapidly approaching the edge, the point of no return as he gazes down into the clear green pools of her eyes, the rapid and shallow breaths she’s taking, the gorgeous smile unfurling on her features. 

“Come with me Castle, come with me babe. Come for me now…”

In unison with her words, she flexes and tightens around him, squeezing his length with her internal muscles, and that’s enough to send him right over. He feels it like a white hot burst of pleasure slicing through his entire body as he thrusts forward one last time and jets into her, closing his eyes to ride out the high.

“Jesus, Kaaaaaaaaaaaaate.”

“Yes, Rick, yes!”

He can feel the shudder of her own orgasm, the way her entire body quivers and shakes and her fingernails dig deep into his back, raking against the skin. The pain is entirely welcome. 

He’s not sure how long they float along on that euphoric high, better than any drug haze, starbursts still going off behind his eyelids, but it feels like the best of eternities. Eventually he opens his eyes again, finds her gazing up at him lovingly as he slides onto the bed next to her, still semi-hard inside her. She snuggles into his chest, and he wraps one hand around her, pulling her in further into their embrace. He loves how languid she is during this post-coital phase, all loose limbs and flowing. 

“Not bad for our first time as a boring old married couple.” 

She toys with his nipple has as she speaks, and then the other. There’s an unspoken agreement that tonight is going to be all about each other’s pleasure, and it is going to last a long, long time. He’s more than looking forward to it.

“No, but that was just the start. Definitely look forward to trying to top that.”

He kisses his way down her body, leaving her smiling and trembling in anticipation all at once as he prepares to clear her of himself with his tongue and coax a few more climaxes from her in the process.

Then they’ll break out the toys.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. As always, I love feedback so please leave a note with your thoughts.


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